What Happens Now?
by InTheClouds773
Summary: I don't own Harry Potter, any of the other characters, or any of the plot line of the seven books written by J. K. Rowling. If I did, however, Draco and Hermione would have found a way to end up together in the end. This is one of my ideas of that.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

"It's final then. You'll have the kids on the weekend, and I'll have them throughout the week," Hermione said, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. The divorce had gone much smoother than she had expected it to; although Ron was the one to suggest it in the first place.

Someone else, he had said. He had fallen in love with someone else. It had broken Hermione's heart to hear him say those words after fifteen years of marriage. She had changed, he had told her, into someone he didn't know anymore.

She had been the devoted wife and mother, giving up everything for Ron and their two children. Maybe she had changed. She admitted she wasn't her bossy, know-it-all self anymore, and maybe that had been why he started looking for another woman to love.

"What about Christmas?" Ron asked, holding Hugo's hand. Hugo was ten, and still thought the world of his father.

"I think we should talk about that later."

"Tilda and I want them with us." Tilda was the new woman. She was tall, not to mention thin. She stuck her nose up whenever Hermione was around, as though she were better than Hermione.

"And I want them with me. Please, let's discuss this later."

Ron nodded. Still holding Hugo's hand, he turned and left, Rose following closely behind. This would be his first weekend with the kids. At fourteen, Rose could care less if she were at one house or the other, but Hermione did. She did not want Tilda being that all-important mother figure for Rose.

Hermione walked silently home, pondering what she would do now. Ron had gotten the house, so she had moved her things to the small three bedroom flat in London she was now renting. This would, hopefully, only be a temporary fix, only until she could secure a job and know she would be able to afford a decent place on her own. She picked up a muggle paper, knowing the Daily Prophet would be waiting for her on her stoop.

Once home, she poured herself a glass of wine and sat on the couch, skimming through the classifieds looking for anything that might catch her eye. There was a position for a journalist at the paper she was reading, and she circled it. She had always been one with words, and she thought she should at least send in a resume.

She moved on to the Daily Prophet, but the only thing in there was an opening for a cashier at Honeydukes. She sighed then finished her glass of wine, pouring a second. She looked at the clock; seven-thirty was way too early to call it a night. She turned on her television set, and flipped through the channels. Nothing was on.

She poured herself a third glass, having finished the second, and laughed to herself; pouring a third glass was something she rarely ever did. Hermione opened up a book she had received as a present many years ago. There was an inscription on the inside of the front cover that read:

"_Dearest Hermione, _

_I hope you enjoy this, and I hope you are able to take something from it. _

_Yours Always, Harry and Ginny"_

She missed her friends. The two of them had moved out of the country when Harry had been given a Headmaster's position at a school in America. Perhaps she would use the Floo Network and pop in for a few hours. No, she decided. They were probably busy. And they were on a completely different time schedule now. She finished her glass and sighed again. Turning to the first page, Hermione began to read.

Hermione woke the next morning to find her book laying open on her lap, her wine glass on the floor, and her hair an atrocious mess. She had woken to an annoying tapping noise coming from somewhere in her mind. She rubbed her eyes and picked the glass up off the carpet.

She was setting it in the sink when an owl flew up to the window. It started pecking on the glass, and she realized this was the tapping that had pulled her from her slumber.

She pushed the window open, and the bird flew in. She did not recognize this bird, but thanked it and grabbed her wand from the table to conjure a mouse for it. She untied the envelope that hung from its leg. It was from Hogwarts.

Seeing the red ink brought back a rush of memories of happier times. Despite the goings on of the war, Hermione would give almost anything to be back with her friends in Hogwarts. At least they had all been happy back then.

She only barely registered in her mind the owl as it stalked the mouse.

The letter was from Headmaster McGonagall. She was in need of a new Charms professor, and she was offering the job to Hermione. Without even thinking twice, Hermione went into the room she had designated for Rose and grabbed a piece of parchment and quill out of Rose's trunk. Her response was short, but to the point. She accepted the headmaster's proposal.

She rolled up the note and tied the tiny scroll to the owl's leg. The bird flew back out the open window once it was finished with it's snack. Hermione took a deep breath then went into her room and pulled her own trunk from the depths of her closet.

It still held her old Hogwarts robes, some of her higher-scoring papers (which she laughed at when she realized there had so many of), and some of her old books, the ones she had had a particular interest in when she was a child. She pulled her copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ out and opened the book. She touched the pages lightly, remembering all the times her two best friends had made jokes at her for actually reading the book.

She finished pulling everything out of the trunk, only to fill it with supplies she would need this year. She packed her clothes in separate suitcases, and then shrunk them with a spell so they would all fit neatly in the top of her trunk. She shrunk her copy of _Hogwarts_ and stuck that in there as well.

Closing the lid, she looked around. If she packed everything up, and shrunk it all, she could fit it all into only a few trunks and save tons of money on storage. Just what she wanted to do with her weekend. But there was only this weekend before school started on the first. If she didn't do it now, she'd have to pay another month of rent.

Hermione set to work on shrinking everything that she could. The furniture, the dishes, everything. She had just finished putting the last of her belongings away when Rose and Hugo came home on Sunday night.

"What's going on here?" Rose asked, walking in her bedroom to find nothing.

"I've found something a bit closer to Hogsmeade. I was just packing everything up. I've left your beds though, and some clothes for the two of you along with your trunks and robes." Hugo and Ron walked in, their jaws dropping at the sight of an empty house.

"What in bloody hell is going on here, Hermione?" Ron asked, practically shouting.

"Don't use language like that in front of the kids, Ron. I'm moving. As soon as the kids are on the train, I'm taking everything to my new home." Ron was speechless. He shoved his hands in his pockets.

"I'm glad you've found something better. This place was awful."

"Compared to what you were living in with your parents all those years ago? I think if you'll remember, they loved their situation. And I loved this tiny place when I was forced to move from the home I had kept for all those years so that you're new whatever-you-want-to-call-her could have it! You said I had changed, Ron, but I think you've done some changing of your own. I have no idea who you are anymore."

"That makes two of us, Hermione. I don't even know why I fell in love you in the first place." His words hurt, but Hermione put on a face of stone to keep Hugo from getting upset. Rose had been no stranger to her parents' failing marriage, so they never kept anything from her. Hugo went into his room and shut the door. Hermione had left a few of his toys out so he wouldn't be completely bored.

"Will you be at the platform to see the kids off tomorrow?" she asked, her breathing slowly regulating her heart rate.

"No. I have to take Tilda to the a doctor's appointment."

"It's Hugo's first year. You remember how hard that was? How can you do this to him?"

"I have other obligations to take care of right now, Hermione, other priorities."

"Your kids should be the number one priority in your life, even if you don't care for me anymore. Don't make them suffer because of your feelings."

"I'm not. Tilda thinks she's pregnant. We're going to either confirm or deny. So I am keeping my kids my priority. You can keep your kids yours."

Ron turned and left, and Hermione slammed the door after him. She pulled out the glass of wine that she had opened only days before, and poured herself a glass. Before she knew it, the remainder of the bottle was gone. But she felt much better. She went to bed that night in a decent mood, and she dreamt of far, far better days.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

The next morning was hectic as Hermione attempted to finish packing. She shrunk the beds and Hugo's toys and set them in the last trunk. They raced through the barrier to Platform 9 ¾ with only a few minutes to spare. Rose handed her trunk to the man loading them onto the train then raced onto the train to join her friends.

Hugo looked nervously at the enormous scarlet train.

"You'll be fine. You'll make friends easily." She hugged Hugo tightly.

"I wish you were coming with me." Hermione hadn't told either of the kids that she would be teaching at Hogwarts that year, and she felt almost guilty for keeping this from them. But she needed Hugo to try and be independent, to do this on his own without the knowledge that he had a safety net.

"Me, too, baby. Have fun, and do your best. You'll be home for Christmas, with me."

"Good. I don't want to go to Dad's. Tilda's mean. She yells at us, and she says mean things about you."

"I'll have a talk with your father about that, okay? Now go get on the train before it leaves. I'll see you sooner than you know."

Hermione kissed Hugo's cheek, but he wiped it off quickly with his sleeve. "Mom!" he whined. "There are people watching!"

"Sorry!" Hugo turned and stepped slowly onto the train. Hermione waited until the whistle blew, signaling the train's departure, and watched as it chugged out of sight.

She went back to the house, and used a concealment charm to turn her trunks invisible. Then she went to the fireplace and took the satchel of Floo Powder off the mantel. She tossed the powder into the fire, the flames turning green in response. She stuck her cleverly concealed trunks in the back yard, and went back inside. Stepping into the fireplace, she uttered the name of the school.

She began spinning, rapidly, and then felt her feet land softly in the Headmaster's office. She stepped out into the room. It was still as it had been when she left. The openness of the room was welcoming, as well as was the smiling faces of Headmaster's prior. She moved the newest portrait, and smiled at it.

"Hello, Professor," she said, waving at the bearded old man.

"Hello, Miss Granger. It's been a long time."

"It has. Where might I find Headmaster McGonagall?"

"Let me check." Dumbledore's portrait left its frame, reappearing within seconds. "She's on her way up, as a matter of fact."

"Thank you." A few moments later, Headmaster McGonagall did indeed walk into her office. She didn't appear at all surprised to see Hermione waiting for her.

"Hermione! How have you been?"

"Decent. A few bumps, but I'm making my way through them slowly. Yourself?"

"Wonderful, just wonderful. Come with me, and I'll show you to your room and your office."

The Charms room was exactly the same as it had been when Hermione had last sat in it. She could imagine Professor Flitwick, as tiny as he was, in the middle of the room, shouting out instructions to the class. Her gaze shifted to a set of stairs leading into another room.

"Your office is in through there. You'll see a portrait of a unicorn. Behind that is a winding staircase. It'll lead you down to your personal quarters."

"Thank you, Headmaster." Hermione looked around the room, considering what she might change about the décor.

"Hermione, dear, you are no longer a student. Minerva will suffice instead of Headmaster now."

"Thank you, _Minerva_."

"Now, do I introduce you as Professor Weasley? Or would you rather me say Professor Granger?"

Hermione cleared her throat, unaware that the Headmaster had been informed of her divorce already. "Granger. Thank you."

"I'm sorry about what's happened." Hermione gave a half-hearted smile, and the Headmaster turned and left. News in the wizarding world had always traveled fast, and Hermione had no doubt that Professor McGonagall had found out about her situation through the extensive grapevine.

Hermione gave a few flicks of her wand, getting rid of the dust and cobwebs and giving a new shine to the statues. She switched out the stained glass in the windows for clear glass, which allowed more light to pass into the room, brightening it ten-fold.

She turned her attention next to her office. There wasn't much to the room, other than a desk and a few bookshelves. Remembering her trunks, Hermione ran back down to the main doors. She stuck her wand in the air and yelled "_Accio_ trunks!" into the air to summon her trunks from her backyard. By the time they flew within Hogwarts' grounds, the concealment spell would wear off, making it much easier for Hermione to locate them.

She levitated them and directed the trunks to her office. She unpacked her books and office belongings. She would need to make a trip to Hogsmeade this weekend for parchment and quills, as well as ink and a few other supplies.

Hermione's head perked as she heard someone walk into the classroom, recognizing immediately the clicking sound of the Headmaster's shoes coming up the stairs.

"Hermione, I forgot one more thing." She handed Hermione a large bounded parcel. "These are your teacher's robes. They may come in handy." Hermione took the package, looking up only to see the headmaster give a curt, polite nod before turning to leave.

She tucked them in her clothing trunk and turned her attention back to her office. The cuckoo clock on the wall said it was barely one o'clock, so she knew she would have plenty of time to finish her office. She took her wand back out and set to work.

Before she knew it, the clock chimed five times, signaling that it was already five o'clock. The students would be arriving in exactly one hour; only once was the train ever late, and Hermione had been part of that horrible incident.

Satisfied with her office and the classroom, Hermione went over to the portrait of the unicorn and stared at the creature. He turned his head to Hermione and said, "Would you like to create your password now?"

"Yes, I would." Hermione thought for a moment. "Orange blossoms."

"Very well. I'll remember that. You'll do well to change it every month." The portrait swung open and Hermione descended the stairs.

Hermione was awed when she entered her personal quarters. The common room was larger than any she had seen throughout the school. And the bedroom was just as big, an enormous four-post bed against one wall. Everything was decorated in generic colors, and Hermione took it upon herself to use a few color-changing charms to spice up the room.

The bathroom was the usual, an Olympic size swimming pool in the center of the room.

She went back upstairs after bringing her trunks down, and left for the Great Hall. She had walked into the room just as the other teachers were getting seated. Five minutes until the students arrived.

She took an empty seat by Professor Longbottom, the Herbology professor as well as a dear and old friend. Neville Longbottom greeted Hermione with a friendly smile, only having time to ask how Hermione had been over the past few year.

Just as Hermione opened her mouth to answer, the doors to the Great hall opened, and all the students, except for the first years, walked in and took their seats at their houses' tables. Then the doors opened again, and Hagrid, Hermione's beloved half-giant friend, ushered in the very shy and very intimidated first years. Hermione searched the crowd for Hugo, spotting his red hair quickly. Rose was harder to find, but Hermione found her at Gryffindor's table; Rose had inherited Hermione's brown bushy hair, but Rose had been smart enough to use taming spells on her hair.

Headmaster McGonagall stood at the glorious podium and gave her speech, welcoming the students back to Hogwarts.

"Before we begin the sorting of the first years, I have one announcement to make. Our dear Professor Flitwick decided to retire at the end of last year, which means we have a new addition to our teaching staff. Please join me in welcoming Professor Granger, who will take over as Charms professor."

The student body erupted, welcoming her in unison, as Hermione stood and bowed slightly. She saw Hugo's face light up when he saw her, and she sat back down, eyeing Rose. She could tell Rose was pretending not to know her, the embarrassment of having her mother for a teacher apparent on Rose's face. Hermione didn't blame Rose, though. Hermione would have mortified if her own mother had been a professor at Hogwarts.

The sorting ceremony began, and when it came Hugo's turn, he sat nervously on the stool. The hat was barely on his head before it screamed out Gryffindor. Hermione smiled and clapped, proud her son had stayed out of Slytherin. She watched Rose roll her eyes, obviously annoyed that her little brother would be following her around all year.

The feast began shortly after the Sorting Hat had been removed by the headmaster, food appearing at the tables, and Hermione sat silently, eating her meal and watching the students. They filed out slowly as they finished their own meals.

Hugo ran up to the teacher's table when he was finished, giving his mother an enormous hug.

"Hugo, people are watching," Hermione pointed out.

"I decided that I don't care anymore if people see." Hermione smiled at her son's words.

"Go on. I'll talk to you later, okay?" Hugo jumped off the platform and ran after a couple of kids who were leaving the Great Hall. Hermione finished her meal, shaking her head at ten-year-old boys.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Hermione was down the hall when she suddenly felt as though she were being followed. She turned around, but saw nobody behind her. She kept walking, only to have the feeling grow stronger with each step. She turned around again.

"Is anyone there?" She pulled her wand from inside her robes. The hall was empty and silent. She turned back around, her wand still in hand. She screamed as she collided with something very solid.

"I'm so sorry," she heard this person say. She had dropped her wand and was bending to pick it up. "I wasn't watching where I was going."

She looked back up, and shock washed across her at the face staring back at her. Her mouth went dry, and she could think of nothing to say.

"So it's true, then. You really have come back to Hogwarts."

"I'm more surprised to see you here, Malfoy. You never hid your loathing for Hogwarts. Why on Earth are you even here?"

"I never said I didn't like Hogwarts. It was the people like Potter and Weasley and yourself, of course, who made me hate coming here."

"And you made it such a wonderful place for us, right?" Hermione rolled her eyes at him, and started walking again. He was right behind her, though, keeping up with her rather quick pace. "What now?"

"And for your information, Granger, I'm hear teaching the Potions class."

"And you haven't been fired for poisoning the muggle-borns yet? I'm shocked!"

"You haven't changed a bit, have you? You're still the bossy, know-it-all, I'm-better-than-you bitch you were in school aren't you? I'll bet Weasley loves that about you, doesn't he?"

"For _your_ information, Malfoy, Ron and I are no longer together, not that it's any of your business."

"I knew you two wouldn't last. He just couldn't put up with your crap any longer, could he?"

Hermione stopped where she was, turned to Draco and slapped him across the face, hard. A red handprint formed instantly where her hand had made contact.

"Don't pretend you know me anymore, Malfoy. You don't anything about me anymore. People change."

"Trust me, I know personally how much people can change." He turned and walked away, leaving Hermione speechless. _What does he know about people changing?_ she thought. Shaking her head, Hermione made her way back to her room.

Hermione was up bright and early the next morning. Hugo flashed her a friendly smile at breakfast, but Rose still avoided her gaze. That's all she could expect from her at this point in her life though. She was a fourteen-year-old girl and her mother was the newest professor at the one place she thought she was free of her.

Rose had always been a smart girl; she caught on early that her father wasn't quite telling the truth about certain things. Hermione had been in a state of denial for the longest time, until she walked into Ron's office at the Ministry to find him shagging Tilda on his desk.

Hugo was completely innocent of any knowledge of his father's 'relationship'. _Thank God for that_, Hermione thought as she continued to eat her breakfast.

Her first class was a group of first years from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. They were quick learners, though, and most of them caught on to the charms she was teaching right away.

She only had two classes each day, and the second class she had was the seventh years who had managed to qualify with their N.E.W.T. scores. It was interesting planning this class, because she remembered sitting right where they were not too long before.

The rest of her afternoon was free, so Hermione decided to make the trip to Hogsmeade for the supplies she needed.

Flourish and Blotts was in great supply of parchment and quills and ink, as well as a few new books about teaching Charms. _How convenient_, she thought, picking out several books to read over the course of the next couple of weeks.

Hermione made it back to Hogwarts just in time for dinner. And after, when she saw that Hugo had left the Great Hall, she wandered over to Rose, interested in how she was doing.

"Rose, I'd like to see you in my office. Perhaps tomorrow? Just before lunch?" Rose nodded, trying not to look Hermione directly in the eye. Hermione just smiled, and exited the Great Hall. She was walking towards her room when she felt that all-too-familiar pang that someone was following her again. She didn't bother to pull out her wand this time.

"What could you possibly want this time, Malfoy?" She watched as he rounded the corner towards her.

"A conversation. No childish name-calling, no immaturities of any kind. A serious, _adult_ conversation."

"Now?" she asked, a bit too loud.

"Why not?" She opened her mouth to respond, but closed it again, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Fine. We can talk in my office. Follow me."

Once inside, Hermione motioned for Draco to sit in one of the available chairs, taking her own on the other side of her desk.

"What is it that's so important you need to discuss with me that it cannot wait for the morning?"

"You and me." It was blunt, and Hermione nearly choked on air as she had taken in a sudden and deep breath.

"Excuse me?!"

"We're both adults now. I think you and I can be honest and open about things, right?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You and I can act civil to one another, right? I mean, you of all people should know the most about being civil to people."

"You're…calling a truce? With me?" Draco nodded. "And what exactly does that entail? Do I have to sell my soul to the Devil in order to get you to be nice to me?"

Draco laughed. "No. We will refer to each other as professors, not Malfoy and Granger, or any other names we liked to call each other in school."

"You do realize that means you can't call me a 'mudblood', right?"

"People can change, you know. Even if you don't want to believe they can. I'm not who I was back then."

Hermione raised her head at his words, not sure if she believed him, or if she even wanted to.

"Alright. I'll agree to the truce. I think I can handle being civil to you as long as you're civil to me."

"Agreed." Draco extended his hand, as a gesture of closure. Hermione took it. Something shot through her hand, ending at her wrist, when their hands touched, and she nearly pulled hers away. She shook it just a little then pulled it away. "Goodnight, Professor."

"Goodnight," she whispered, fumbling with her hands in her lap.

Hermione slept little that night, and when she did sleep, her dreams were invaded by a certain blonde professor.

She was young again, sixteen years old. And she was happy again.

Hermione, Harry, and Ron sat outside Professor Snape's room waiting for their potions teacher to show up. Hermione had always dreaded potions; not because she was bad at the subject for she excelled at almost every subject. No. She dreaded potions because of the one boy that had always made her life a living hell: Draco Malfoy.

Malfoy stood with his two goons, Crabbe and Goyle, on the opposite end of the hall. They, too, were waiting for Snape to show up. Hermione watched them carefully, eyeing them suspiciously.

Malfoy turned to her then, but wasn't looking directly at her. She was awed at how angelic his face looked, as though there could be some small amount of good in him somewhere. But Hermione knew better, and she shook the silly thought out of her head.

All through potions, Hermione wondered what kind of person Malfoy could have been had he not been born to such horrible parents. Would he still have been placed in Slytherin? Would he and Hermione have been friends? _Could_ he and Hermione have been friends, or - dare she think it? - more than friends? She hated living in the land of What If's, so she tossed the idea into the same bin as all of her other failed thoughts.

She had been walking to dinner that night, with a hundred and one thoughts running through her mind, when she felt as though she were being followed. She turned to find Malfoy behind her.

One look, one snicker, and one word. "Mudblood" was all he had said, but it caused her to go back into her mind, pull those What If thoughts out of storage and mentally run them through a paper shredder.

No, she had concluded. There was no good in Malfoy, at all. There was nothing within him that could ever be worth saving.


End file.
